Piratey OneShots
by Riddle-Me-That
Summary: Sad, happy, funny, stupid... you get the picture. A bunch of one-shots.
1. You Can't Put Your Arms Around a Dream

Here is a collection of one-shots, randomly updated when I feel like updating. Some will be happy, some sad, some funny, some stupid, some... just sort of there. Whee! 

Thankies to my beta, yellow-lily! 

Disclaimer: Nothing. I own nothing. 

Summary: This takes place in the cave. Barbossa aims at Elizabeth, Jack aims at him, etc, that part.

* * *

Elizabeth was quite startled to be suddenly confronted by the barrel of a gun. Startled and terrified out of her mind. And one must add that her thoughts were not those romantic last thoughts that a heroine should have. Rather, she was wondering pitifully why this was happening to her. 

Will stood above the chest, the gold clutched in his hands. This was a crucial part; he must play it correctly, and do nothing stupid. The young man swallowed, and his thoughts were more noble than Elizabeth's. He was, of course, fearing for her life. Did he ever fear for anything else?

Jack, for his part, whipped out his gun, aimed at Barbossa, and fired a perfectly aimed shot.

Barbossa sneered at his former captain. "For ten years you carry that pistol, and now you waste your shot." He flung open his arms, as if to say "Shoot me again, fool."

"He didn't waste it!" Will cried from where he stood, and released the medallions. Almost simltaneously, so much in sync that one would think the two had rehearsed, Barbossa whipped about and fired.

Barbossa's death was something Jack had longed for, but he instantly forgot his foe. Elizabeth's scream tore through the dank air, and she surged forward, towards the fallen man. Jack followed close behind, his eyes widening at the sight of his friend on the ground, blood pouring from his skull, mingling with his wavy hair.

"Will, Will, please!" Elizabeth shook the blacksmith's arm fiercely, desperately, as though such actions would revive him. But he lay still, and he was cold. 

Such an end did not seem fitting to the young woman. All the stories she'd read in which the hero died, well, he made a great speech before finally lying still. But Will, her Will, he'd died without a word. No, that was silly, he wasn't her Will. He was a dream.

Jack lay a hand on her shoulder, massaging it gently. "'lizabeth?" he murmured, unable to look down at poor Will. "We'd... we'd best go." The words caught in his throat. Captain Jack Sparrow never cried, but he did grieve.

Elizabeth tore away from his grasp, sobbing quietly as she gathered Will into her arms. He fell back limply, onto the stones, the dead weight too much for her to support. That made sense, she supposed.

After all, you can't put your arms around a dream.

-fin-


	2. Will's Pathetic but Cute Innocence

Disclaimer: See last chappie.

Well, the last one wasn't happy. This one will be somewhat happier. =D It's a silly fic... 'cause I'm odd.

Summary: Will and Elizabeth and Jack and the crew on the Black Pearl. Wedding night for Will and Elizabeth: AFTER wedding. NOT SMUT. Jack's taking them on their honeymoon. There won't be any explicit stuff. Well, read and find out...

* * *

Will rummaged through Jack's cabin. He'd be in great trouble if he was caught in here, but heck, it was his honeymoon night. He needed to look decent, and Jack seemed to please women. If he'd been thinking straight, he would have realized Elizabeth obviously preferred him, or she would have run away with Jack, but what man thinks clearly on the night of his honeymoon? 

"A hat, yes," Will murmured, placing one of Jack's hats on his head. He set it at a jaunty angle and practiced a seductive grin into an old chipped mirror. "Gold teeth, yes, that would work." Will paused. How could he create gold teeth? Gold, of course! Finding the smallest piece of gold possible, a tiny coin, he jammed it into a small space between two teeth. Hell, it hurt, but oh well. 

"Will? Will, what the bloody hell are you doin' with me things?" Jack stormed into the cabin, glaring at the young man. "Are ye daft, boy?"

"No, Jack," Will explained with childlike innocence. "But, well, tonight IS my honeymoon night, and since you've so much experience with women, I figured I ought to look like you."

Jack was oddly touched by this hero-worship, and that grin of his crossed his face. "I'll give you a hand, lad. Let me take a look at that hair!" He set about braiding, or rather, knotting, shells into Will's hair.

"Jack! That hurts!"

"Hold still, you bilge-rat!" 

"But it hurts!"

"There! I'm done!" Jack placed his hands on his hips impatiently. "No wonder it took ye ten years t'catch yer lass. Now, pass me that kohl."

The next minute passed quite uneventfully, Jack applying the kohl carefully, then Will yelped. "It's in my eye, Jack! Get it out!"

"Damn, Will, now it's running! Augh, I've smudged it, stop moving! And take the damn hat off, that feather's tickling me. No wonder it's all over your face."

"What's going on in here? Will, are you planning to spend the night with me, or Jack?" Elizabeth stepped inside, frowning at her husband, then her eyes went wide. Will grinned at her, and she stared in disbelief at the gold coin in his mouth, his hair sticking out at odd angles, one eye watering and the kohl smudged everywhere. Then she burst out laughing and fled the room, howling with mirth the whole way back to her room.

Will sighed and glared at Jack. "Jack?"

"Yes?"

"I'm getting nothing tonight, am I?"

"'Fraid not, son. 'Fraid not."

-fin-

  
  



	3. You've Still Got It!

A third one-shot, hurrah.

Don't even ask about this one, I was feeling... odd. Very weird indeed.

Yellow-lily is still my beta! =D

Disclaimer: See other chapparoos.

* * *

It was turning out to be quite a lovely little party. Governer Swann surveyed his work with deep pleasure. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, the food was excellent, and the music was perfect. And Elizabeth was acting fairly ladylike, that was a plus, indeed. Yes, Weatherby Swann was feeling superb. 

A lady caught his eye across the room. She was about his age, tall and elegant, and he recognized her instantly as the visiting Governess Diane from England. "All right then," Swann thought to himself. "Why not, hmm?" After all, his wife had died several years ago. Perhaps he should get back out in the world...

He strode over to Diane with a smile on his face. "Ah, Lady Diane, are you enjoying yourself?"

"Oh, Governer Swann, I am, but please, call me Diane!" The woman smiled warmly, and Weatherby found himself, to his shock, grinning.

"Only if you agree to call me Weatherby," he responded, and the two laughed.

Across the room, Will stood quite awkwardly, but Elizabeth soon joined him, increasing his discomfort. "Hello, Will," she cried gaily, then, "What on earth is my father doing?"

"Flirting," Will said wisely.

"Flirting? Don't be silly, Will- why, hold on a moment, yes, I believe you're right. Hmm. How about that. He seems to be doing fine."

"Yes, he does, Miss Swann."

"Will! Call me Elizabeth!" The two stared at each other, then returned to watching the Governer.

Governer Swann had just finished a very witty joke about a pirate and rum, and Diane was laughing appreciatively. Laying a hand on his arm, she smiled brightly. "Weatherby, you'll really have to tell me some more jokes like that." He was more than happy to oblige.

The rest of the evening passed with Weatherby Swann shirking his hosting duties, and flirting with miss Diane. The guests soon began to file out, and when the room was nearly empty but for a few stragglers searching for coats, Weatherby turned back to Diane.

"I had a wonderful time," she told him with a smile, as he helped her with her coat.

"As did I," he replied, lifting her hand to kiss it. She blushed and looked up at him coyly. "Perhaps we can get together another time?" he suggested.

"I will most definitely consider that," she replied, and with another look was Weatherby decided was definitely flirtacious, exited through the door.

Weatherby certainly had a little bounce in his step as he turned to retire to his room. Passing a mirror in the hall, he paused to look at himself. He fixed his wig a bit, placed a dashing smile on his face, and even winked daringly, then he murmured to himself.

"Weatherby Swann, you've still got it!"

* * *

Don't even ask, huh? R&R, mates. And just so ya know, the bit with Will and Elizabeth was to show the comparison between the two classes. Weatherby had no problem calling someone from his own class by her first name, but it horrified Will. Don't worry Will. *hugs Will*   
  



	4. It Couldn't Be Helped

And a FOURTH one-shot. The ideas just keep coming. It must be those donuts I ate.

Disclaimer is the same.

Petit Summary: This is just a little fic about the Norrington-Elizabeth-Will triangle sort of thing. Will and Liz are sixteen in this fic... I guess Norrington is about 35 or so. Ugh. Anywho, in order to make his daughter more "ladylike" and to train her to be a hostess, she was told to invite some people to tea. Who does she invite? Will and Norrington. Not really humorous, though...

* * *

It wasn't supposed to be like this. But it couldn't be helped. 

She had been his best friend since the day he'd been pulled from the cold waters of the ocean. An old playmate, someone he could tell anything to. But, lo and behold, she had grown. And he had grown, too, and he was no longer her friend, really. He knew he couldn't be: he, a blacksmith's apprentice, her, a governers daughter. Not a match made in heaven, to be sure. So he knew it would never work, but he loved her anyways.

He remembered the day he'd realized he loved her. He was thirteen, just a boy, two long years ago, now. They had not played for ages, for both were growing out of their old games. But she came to visit anyways, she always came to visit, and they were talking. Talking about nothing in particular, just chatting, both trying to seem adult, both longing to stop the stiffness. He remembered the way she squirmed and fiddled with her new dress, and how she hated it so, and he realized he loved her.

Now he was sitting here, silent and aching, sipping at the tea. This was hell, to be blunt. He could not talk to her with Norrington about. And most likely he wouldn't see her again for quite some time.

Will sighed. This was terrible.

--

It wasn't supposed to be like this. But it couldn't be helped.

For Pete's sake, she was his friend's daughter. She was only sixteen. He was thirtyfive. Yes, he was her suitor, and that was fine, but he'd gone and done the unthinkable. He'd fallen in love with the damn girl. Blast it all! What on earth was he supposed to do?

He'd realized he loved her when she was fifteen. He'd been visiting her father, and she'd come down in a new dress, less than excited, of course. But he'd fallen head over heels like a bloody fool. His life had come crashing down. Suitors are not supposed to love the women. Men like him, he was never supposed to love. But he did, and it was a fatal mistake.

And that damn Turner boy, he had to be here, drinking tea with them. He noticed the boy seemed irked by his prescence. But the lad had always been smitten with miss Swann. And of course, she didn't seem to notice either of their discomfort. She was too busy worrying that the tea would not go well, and it would not please her father.

Norrington swallowed hard. This was horrible.

---

It wasn't supposed to be like this. But it couldn't be helped.

Why did Will and Norrington look so damn serious? Was it really that terrible? She glared at the teacups for a moment, wondering it the tea tasted awful. This was a disaster. The spoons were dirty, the tea was disgusting, her dress was crinkled and her guests were miserable. 

Elizabeth slumped her shoulders in defeat. This was bloody awful.

* * *

Hmm, I don't know if anyone got the irony at the end. Basically, Elizabeth is being very petty, concerning over something like a bad tea party. Will and Norrington and sitting there, miserable because they love her. So... she has no reason to be upset, really, because, I mean.. Two guys are sitting there adoring you. *pokes Elizabeth* Wake up woman! You are damn lucky!   
  
  
  



End file.
